


Bound by your love

by Ponddipper



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Feathers & Featherplay, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23928763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponddipper/pseuds/Ponddipper
Summary: In which Richard realizes he needs to be more careful about what he agrees to let Camille do...**WARNING!  DO NOT READ ON THE BUS1**
Relationships: Camille Bordey/Richard Poole
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Bound by your love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweepeaspatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweepeaspatch/gifts).



> SO this is my first full smut story, inspired partly by whoever requested more smut in this fandom and also by Sweepeaspatch asking for the original unedited shower scene from my Alpha /omega story. Instead, I give you this.  
> Pls let me know if the formatting doesn't come out. Not sure why but the website seems to keep knocking it all over the place!

**Bound by your love**

‘You’ve been a naughty boy. Haven’t you Richard?’ 

Camille’s voice breaks through the haze of sleep and Richard blinks his eyes against the bright morning sun that floods through the open veranda doors. 

‘I have?’ He yawns, trying to stretch out his slightly stiff limbs only to find he cannot move, that he is restrained, each wrist and ankle bound to the bed by soft silky ties. He is also naked as the day he was born.

‘Yes. You have.’ 

Camille leans forward, dragging a leather riding crop along the inside of his spread wide legs, granting Richard a delightful view of her cleavage held tight in a red and black lace corset that accentuates her fantastic figure.

‘And now, ma Cherie, ‘ She purrs a salacious smirk twisting her lips, a mischievous glint in her eye, ‘You will have to be punished.’

Richard swallows. Hard.

They’ve been together six months now, Camille introducing him to a whole new world of pleasure as they slowly explore each other’s kinks and fantasies. Unsurprisingly Camille has a thing for domination, which is fine by Richard as it often means he has the gift of her full undivided attention.

Just last night they had discussed this very scenario, how she might tie him up and spank him for supposed bad behaviour and Richard had agreed. In theory. But he hadn’t reckoned on his impulsive, impetuous girlfriend striking the very next day, as soon as he woke up. He hasn’t even had a cup of tea yet!

The sudden crack of leather on flesh, accompanied by a stinging pain across his inner thigh has Richard snapping back to attention, his gasp high and sharp. It doesn’t hurt exactly but it is a shock, tingles rippling across his skin, blood surging to the surface making it throb.

And, he is ashamed to realise, his body seems to like it, his cock starting to plump.

‘Richard!’ Camille snaps, arms folded across her chest, lips drawn in a moue of displeasure. ‘Are you listening to me?’

His throat is dry, his tongue sticking to the back, so he can only nod, a grunt his best vocal effort for now. 

She looks so sexy in her thigh-high boots, the corset and matching panties setting his blood to boil. Like his very own version of Wonder Woman she radiates power and confidence. He wants to reach out to her, his fingers itching to touch the expanse of taut caramel coloured skin before him.

But he can’t. Because he is restrained. Tied to the bed and completely at her mercy. His cock gets harder as Camille stalks around the bed coming to rest between his spread legs, the leather crop still firmly in her grasp.

‘I am going to spank you, Richard and then you will apologise for your bad behaviour. You have been a very bad boy.’

What was it about her words, the disappointment in her tone that made him so hot, so aroused? He feels so small, so intimidated by her yet he is excited by what is to come.

For several minutes Camille wields her crop, peppering his thighs with wonderful bites of pleasure. She alternates left and right with each stroke, each swing sending a cool breeze blowing gently against his stiffening cock, every smack rippling right up to his sac.   
Richards thighs from warm to hot, tingling like a thousand nettle stings but it isn’t wholly unpleasant. His lustful moans are obscene, and he is vaguely aware that someone on the beach might be able to hear them but right now he cannot think enough to care.

This isn’t like school, where a spanking meant sadistic Nuns with slippers ripping away a layer of flesh. He has control here, trusts Camille enough to know that she will stop if he needs her to stop. She might push his boundaries on a daily basis, argue with him sometimes just for something to do, but he knows that if he needs to, he can say ”jelly babies” and she will cease, let him be free without any consequences. Yes, despite his traumatic past he trusts Camille, believes her when she says she can make his body sing.

Suddenly though, Camille does stop. Richard snaps his eyes open, along with his mouth, following her movements as best he can as she climbs onto the bed between his legs. His neck aches from the strained angle but he watches as she reaches out with the crop towards his erection, now fully grown and pointing proudly at the ceiling. Her eyes bore into his, a silent question in their chocolate depths as she taps gently against him. Surely she wouldn’t...  
  
‘My my Richard. You’re enjoying this, hmm?’ She purrs trailing the crop up and down the length of throbbing flesh. ‘Maybe I need a… different punishment?’   
Her eyebrow rises in that French way her mothers does and it makes him shudder from head to toes.

The stiletto heels of her thigh-high boots clack against the wooden floor as Camille struts over to the table in the corner. Richard cannot turn enough to see what she is up to but when she turns to face him, she has one hand behind her back and a wicked smile upon her lips.  
  
He really is in trouble now.

The bed dips as once again Camille settles herself between his wide-open legs, slowly uncurling her fist before his eyes to reveal the contents laying harmlessly in her palm.  
  
‘This will be a much better punishment, non?’ 

She twirls the long white feather between her fingers like a Victorian villain, a much too innocent expression plastered across her face. No wonder she was so good undercover. The woman is bloody evil!

‘No, Camille!’ He says, eyes wide with fear. Damn it, she knows how ticklish he is. ‘Please don’t do tha…aahh!’

Her touch is maddening, just a whisper of sensation that sets every nerve ending alight as she slowly brushes the feather against his skin. He tries to evade the contact, wriggling, and twisting in a futile attempt to escape. But the ties are too tight and he is forced to endure as she paints invisible patterns across his chest, tracing each and every rib, circling both his nipples in turn.

‘Please! Camille!’ He starts to beg, tears forming at the edge of his eyes as she raises Goosebumps in the wake each pass. 

‘Camille! No, stop, please I can’t…’ He gasps as she runs the feather down the sparse trail of hair towards his groin, sliding side to side across his hips. It’s too much and not enough all at once, itchy and driving him insane with the inability to touch.

Camille hums as she begins to stroke his cock with the feather, up, down, around the now leaking head. Richard feels his lungs contract, air no longer able to reach inside. 

‘Please, Camille!’ He starts to sob, tears slipping down his temples to soak the thin pillow beneath his head. It’s too much. He can’t take any more. He can’t breathe, his pulse thunders in his ears, drowning everything out save the wet swoosh of blood rushing through his veins.  
Camille straddles him and he bucks, trying to throw her off, unable to bear any more torture at her hands. But she is stronger, her thighs gripping at his hips and her hands take hold of his face. 

‘Richard. It’s okay. It’s okay.’ She says, wiping away his tears with her thumbs, forcing him to look into her eyes. ‘I’m here, Richard. It’s okay.’

He sobs freely, cock so hard now he’s almost afraid what might happen when he comes. But he can’t reach down to take care of himself, to do anything but lay there and hope this will all end soon.  
  
‘Ple-ase Cam-ille. Please let me...I need to...’

She leans forward, kisses him on the mouth with a smile, thumbs still stroking his face.

‘Such a good boy for me.’ 

Shuffling backward, sitting now upon his shins, Camille bends at the waist, taking his poor neglected cock into her mouth. He whines, over-sensitive, the warm wetness enveloping him too much sensation for his brain to process anymore. Camille is a fantastic kisser, probably in part her French heritage, but when she does this to him, uses her mouth to pleasure him, she can melt him to a puddle in no time. 

He thrusts his hips forwards, desperately seeking more as she uses her wicked tongue to trace every vein and fold of skin.

A tingling starts to build at the base of his spine, deepening, concentrating until it is almost a burn, his balls filling, tightening, drawing up against his body. Just a few more thrusts and he’ll be there, spilling over, riding the crest of the ecstasy wave.

Then Camille pulls off him with a lewd pop! 

‘Nooooo!’ Richard whines, unable to bite back his howl of frustration as he is once more denied his release. 

‘Please. Oh god! Please… let me… Camille. I need to...’

‘Sssh!’ Camille whispers against his ear, her hand now gripping him tightly, pumping up and down. ‘That’s it. Good boy.’

Richard's hips followed her hand like a magnet, jerking up and down as she lay at his side, still working him with her hand.

‘Come for me, Richard. Show me what a good boy you are.’

He screams, stars bursting in kaleidoscopes before his eyes, his lungs burning as his pelvis explodes with the most powerful orgasm he has ever had. White-hot bliss smothers him from head to toe as he sinks into the blackness that calls for sleep. 

Richard wakes sometime later to find himself curled in Camille’s arms, one of her hands stroking through his hair. Everything aches but in a good way, his mind still floating on a cloud of bliss.  
  
‘Richard?’ Camille’s voice is soft, quiet but tinged with concern. ‘Are you okay?’

He hums and nods, still too blissed out to form proper words. Camille shifts slightly so she could see his face and Richard looks up at her with a smile.  
  
‘You did so well. Did you enjoy it?’

Another nod followed by a yawn. Even though it was morning he felt like he needed to sleep. She had worn him out! How had he gotten so lucky as to have this amazing woman in his life?

Perhaps he died somewhere, and this was heaven?  
‘Good.’ Camille replies, kissing him on the nose then shifting back to tuck him in the crook of her arm again. ‘When you’re ready I’ll get up and make you some breakfast, but there’s no rush.’

As they lay in bed, a soft breeze wafting in from outside, the sound of cicadas and birds chirruping gently in the background and Richard thought back to what the Commissioner said when he had first arrived on Saint Marie.  
‘Welcome to Paradise, Inspector!’  
As much as Richard hated to admit, the man was right. It just took him a while to understand what the man meant. 

The End


End file.
